


Gunpowder and Sunflowers

by Origamigryphon



Category: Keroro Gunsou | Sgt. Frog
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alien anatomy, F/M, First Time, Massage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22396309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Origamigryphon/pseuds/Origamigryphon
Summary: Natsumi comes home from a rough day of soccer practice, and Giroro steps in to help ease her aches.
Relationships: Giroro & Hinata Natsumi, Giroro/Hinata Natsumi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	Gunpowder and Sunflowers

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I wrote about eight years ago that I never posted anywhere, when I was really big into Keroro Gunsou (Sergeant Frog). This is just some self-indulgent smut of an aged up Natsumi (for obvious reasons) and Giroro finally showing their passion for one another. This is un-beta read. Have fun!

In front of a familiar red tent sitting upon a familiar concrete block on a familiar lawn, Corporal Giroro was _not_ polishing his weapons, _not_ roasting sweet potatoes, but snout-first in a book. It was a tome about one of the old American wars: focused on one young man and how the war changed him. He read intently through the descriptions of the battles, the political by-play, the actions and the reactions of the man himself. The red warrior was eager to see the next chapter, but instead of another battle, he found himself reading through a particularly lusty scene between the man and one of the nurses that regularly tended to his wounds. _This is how Pokopenians arouse one another?_ he mused. It wasn't like Keronian courtship at all. _I shouldn't be surprised. Alien races tend to have alien courtships._

He fell into reading the scene with an open mind; soon after the scene finished, he heard the front door open and close, with a sluggish "I'm home" issuing from within the house. Giroro's hearts immediately beat faster as he heard Natsumi's voice, but the exhausted state of it worried him. He entered through the sliding door to see Natsumi drop her bags uncaringly on the coffee table and flop bonelessly onto the couch. Before Giroro could voice his concern over her condition, Keroro came bounding into the room with a squeal. "Natsumi-dono!" the Sergeant enthused. "Welcome home, de arimasu! The chores you have set for me today--"

Natsumi lifted a hand and waved at him dismissively, her head lolling backward on the back edge of the couch. "I'm too tired for this, stupid frog. Go build your Gunpla or something, would you?"

"But Natsumi-dono! I must report what has been done!" He whined, wanting his accomplishments appreciated. He clenched his small hands earnestly, wiggling his rump in impatience.

Giroro's hand came out to nab his leaders' helmet flap, yanking him firmly toward the door to his room. "She said she was tired," he growled dangerously as he tossed the squealing Keronian into the room, sending him tumbling down the open trap door. Thinking quickly, the crimson frog dragged a high-backed chair from the kitchen and wedged it firmly underneath the doorknob. "That ought to hold the green idiot for a while."

A relieved sigh met his ears, and he turned to see Natsumi sitting up at an angle on the couch, her left hand rubbing her right shoulder, her eyes squinted shut in pain. No doubt from the sports practice she had today, he thought. The evidence was in the spiky-bottomed shoes attached to the outside of her bag, the strong smell of grass and her natural scent. He took in a few appreciative whiffs; her scent was earthy, with a slight undertone of a pokopenian sunflower. He was walking purposefully toward her before he realized it.

"Thank you so much for getting rid of him," Natsumi sighed appreciatively, trying with an effort to relieve the tension in her shoulders. Giroro hopped onto the couch behind her. With her sitting, his height was equal to hers. "If I may," the warrior whispered shyly, "I can help you ease your pain." Suiting action to word, his small hands gripped her shoulders and began to knead the knotted muscles.

Natsumi gasped, and she twitched with the instinctive reaction to grab the frog by the head and fling him across the room. But she realized just what he was doing, how good it felt, and her hands dropped into her lap as her head sagged forward. "Oh. Oooh," she purred, her breath hissing through her teeth as Giroro's ministrations hit a sore spot. His fingers sought out the knotted lumps, and using techniques learned on the battlefield, smoothed them out. If a muscle twitched, a hand soothed it before it became a painful spasm.

"What did you do to yourself?" Giroro inquired gruffly after a moment. "Your back is a mess."

Natsumi grunted. "Soccer," she answered simply. "We were practicing those mid-air kicks that have you land on your back or shoulder to execute them."

"I see."

His hands traveled downward to her back, and found something in his way--her bra strap. Gulping back his nosebleed, he unhooked it deftly through her uniform shirts.

Natsumi's mind was somewhere between consciousness and meditation, when she noticed a strange sensation. She pulled herself back into reality long enough to realize that her breasts were no longer being supported, and felt her bra straps dangling at her sides.

"Giroro," she inquired. "Did you--?"

"Yes," he interrupted immediately. "It was--in the way," he said gruffly.

"Oh. Okay, then." As Giroro watched, Natsumi reached under the left sleeve of her school uniform, pulling down one shoulder strap before it dangled free; then reaching back into the opposite sleeve, she pulled the undergarment free and tossed it onto her bag.

The red frog seemed to grow redder, staring in no little surprise at the dexterous move, and then at the casually tossed brassiere. _I didn't know it could be taken off that way._

"Giroro?" Natsumi looked over her shoulder at him. "Why did you stop?"

He huffed to hide his amused chuckle, and began to rub her anew. He squeezed and pressed the muscles along her spine, then came back up again with the heels of his hands in circles. He repeated this a few times, all the while reveling at the sensation of Natsumi's well-toned muscles softening under his experienced fingers, and the moans of pure pleasure she was uttering. After he came back up her spine a third time, he returned his attention to her shoulders, his small thumbs digging into the muscles of her shoulder blades. But as his fingers dug into a cord of muscle that seemed to join Natsumi's lithe neck and shoulders, she suddenly sat bolt upright, shuddered all over, and slumped back down again.

"Oooh.." Natsumi's coo was full of delight and wonder. "Do that again."

Giroro gulped at the display, his shivering fingers repeating the motion. This time Natsumi didn't react as violently, but her head lolled to one side and leaned into the caress, shivering. Giroro had an eyeful of her blissful expression, her eyelashes feathering against her cheek, and the gentle curve of her jaw. He realized just how close he was to pressing himself against her back; he slowly removed his left hand from her shoulder to silently slip his buckle from his shoulder and toe it aside. The low moans she was emitting made his pulse pound in his ears, and boldly, he closed the gap. He pressed himself against her, his breath spilling across her neck as his fingers slowly played that one sweet spot like a harp. Natsumi's mouth hung open as she breathed deeply, her cheeks flushing; her head tilted backward slightly, an unspoken gesture to continue. Seeing this, Giroro confidently lifted his head so that his mouth was tantalizingly close to the shell of her right ear. "Natsumi," he husked, her name slipping from his mouth like a caress. She gasped slightly as his thin lips touched her ear, gently suckling on the soft lobe.

His right hand continued to massage her as his left slid forward; the small bow of her uniform blouse came undone as he pulled the small string. Giroro released the small bit of flesh as his small fingers traced over her exposed collarbone. He kissed his way down the delicate curve of her neck, feeling and hearing the quick pulse just underneath the surface. His hands parted the clothing from her shoulders, his mouth still trailing kisses. Natsumi gasped as the flat teeth between his canines delicately nibbled on that one spot.

"Giroro," she breathed, her hands clenching, earnestly leaning back toward him, giving him a pleasing view of her exposed cleavage. "Please," she begged, the word no more than a whisper.

He continued as if he did not hear the tiny plea, barely grazing her skin with small nips. His thick tongue laved the skin there before unexpectedly biting, canines and all, into her soft flesh; his teeth pressed harder on that bundle of nerves than his fingers.

Natsumi cried out, her back arching, as Giroro firmly held on as she twitched and shuddered. He released her with an apologetic lick to the indentations left on her skin.

Natsumi's nerves were alive with the new sensations Giroro was alighting within her, yet every sensation pooled downward into that intimate area between her thighs. _Is this what I think it is?_ she thought through a haze of need. _I think I understand what all the fuss is about._

Decision made, she sat up slowly; feeling as steady as jelly, she began to remove her uniform blouse. Giroro stood back, watching her with a smoldering look, but something at the back of his mind niggled at him. "Natsumi," he asked hoarsely, "what about Fuyuki?"

"He isn't invited," came the quick reply as she removed her outer blouse.

"No, I mean," he stuttered in embarrassment, "Where is he? He might interrupt."

She divested herself of her undershirt, flinging it to join her other clothes. She leaned back against the couch cushions, her ample bosom now free in the chill air. "He's at his occult meeting until--oh, what does it matter? Just don't stop!"

The frog shivered, immediately drawn to the tantalizing mounds of flesh tipped with rosy peaks; he stepped between Natsumi's parted legs, reaching out a tentative hand to touch. She stifled a gasp as he cupped them, lifting them as if to test their weight; pressing on them softly, his thumbs rolled over the distended nipples. Eyes lidding, his eager mouth descended upon a tempting peak, licking and suckling. Natsumi tossed her head back, a hand lifting to rest on the warrior's head, pressing him closer. He moved to pay similar attention to its twin, as his fingers traced the saliva-slick flesh he just left.

A scent that was tickling his nose the entire time suddenly became stronger; a heady, musky scent that made him weak in the knees. Her arousal, he realized with a thump of his hearts. _The book did not lie. It is truly a savory scent._

He lifted his head from her abused breasts; he swallowed harshly as she looked down when he stopped. Their faces were inches away, and the wanton need in her eyes called to him. His hearts thudded as their lips came closer--each, despite what they had been doing, still slightly hesitant. But with a small, shy kiss, all doubts faded. Giroro lunged forward, engulfing the Pokopenian mouth in a kiss that he had so long desired.

Wonderfully, Natsumi returned the kiss with unbridled passion, her hand on the back of his head gripping him closer. Their tongues meshed and melded, the taste of her irresistible, the softness of her lips exquisite. He felt his control begin to slip away as his vents widened, already slick with fluid.

When finally the need for air drove them apart, they panted harshly, their lips inches from each other. By the look in her eyes, there was no turning back now.

He licked across her lips, kissed down her chin and jaw; he nibbled his way down her neck as his hands teased her breasts or once again played with that one sweet spot. Impulsively, his foot moved, brushing her skirt forward until it touched the apex of her thighs, still within the barrier of her panties, stroking her through the cloth with the top of his foot.

The triple play of his hands, mouth, and now his foot caused her to toss her head back again, voicing her agreements quite loudly.

Giroro began to drift downward, removing his foot and kneeling, kissing downward between her breasts, before Natsumi realized what he was about; she shifted, laying lengthwise upon the couch, quickly divesting herself of her remaining clothing.

As soon as the last barriers were removed, her savory scent hit him tenfold, and he had to fight to keep from having his way with her then and there. _My Natsumi’s pleasure comes first,_ he thought severely as he took in deep breaths of her. His long, thick tongue eeled out to give her a testing lick from bottom to top, until it passed over her clit; she immediately bucked upward at the pressure with a gasp. He dove upon her wetness, greedily consuming what she had willingly offered him. Natsumi thrashed, bucking wildly against his face as his tongue reached deep within her, much deeper than her questing fingers ever could.

A deep growl caught her attention, and she glanced down at Giroro to see him lift his head from her wetness, his tongue licking her essence from his lips. He bared his teeth in an animalistic snarl, and her heart raced. The intoxication of her taste and scent sent his hormones into overdrive. They controlled him now as his arms encircled under her thighs and lifted them. He looked Natsumi in the eye as he firmly pressed his vents over her own soft folds.

Natsumi cried out in earnest as Giroro began to grind against her, and she bucked against the strong pressure, sparks flying in her vision. Giroro grunted, panting, his thrusts coming faster every passing second. The pressure built and intensified as their motions and cries became frenzied, Natsumi loudly begging for release.

Giroro roared harshly, his orgasm overcoming him as his seed spilled between them, the jelly-like semen hotter than the friction of their bodies—

But before Natsumi could reach her own peak, Giroro unexpectedly pulled away, and she was about to scream in protest—

When one small hand mashed her clit, while the other scooped up a generous portion of his seed, fisted around it, and plunged it deeply within her, and found that throbbing place within her and _pressed._

Natsumi’s back arched, her eyes wide and unseeing as she howled, her orgasm strong and deep, down to her very core.

When Natsumi was finally aware of her surroundings again, she blinked bemusedly for a moment, a contented smile on her face; reveling in the way her body was sluggish and, unexpectedly, pain-free.

 _I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe I –let- him do that,_ the rational part of her mind raced, but a small voice chimed in.

 _But it felt good, didn’t it._ It was a statement, not a question.

A small groan made her look down at her impromptu lover, the red frog’s head lifting from where it was pillowed on her abdomen. She felt his arm slide out of her, Giroro seemingly shocked by the slick fluid that reached past his elbow. A stunned gasp as he remembered just what had happened, and his head shot up to see Natsumi’s content face. He immediately cringed with fear. “Na-Natsumi,” he stuttered, “I didn’t—this wasn’t--“

Natsumi stopped his babbling by nabbing the top of his head and dragging him forward across her body, his fluids and hers leaving a glistening trail. Giroro’s eyes were wide with shock and horror as he waited for what was assuredly going to be a sound pummeling.

Instead she merely smiled, pulling him forward to press a kiss to his open mouth. She lazily met and slid over his tongue and teeth, Giroro’s eyes widening more before they fell to half-mast.

“Thank you for the massage,” she said as she pulled away. “If they’re all like that, I may ask for another…and another…”


End file.
